


The Midas Strain

by GalliumCore



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Oneshot, Outer Space, Oviposition, Romance, Science Experiments, Sounding, Space Opera, THEN THIS IS FOR YOU, Transformation, Weird Biology, Xenophilia, if you like big awkward gays in space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22694044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalliumCore/pseuds/GalliumCore
Summary: Lovers at the edge of space face the possibility of loosing each other. One carries a golden touch that might yet save their relationship, but at the cost of their humanity...
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	1. Debriefs and Decisions

"Thanks for staying out with me," Beau snapped the rugged equipment case closed and checked the progress of his summary report - the planetside uplinks were always patchy and prone to dropping out if they weren't under direct supervision. "It’s a nice change from finishing solo."

"I like to see a project through. Besides," Bishop grinned at his friend, "It's not a bad way to spend the afternoon."

Beau laughed warmly in agreement and shrugged his pack back on. Beside him, Bishop hefted the bulky laser unit and slung the theodolite frame easily across his broad shoulders. The pair left the survey site and headed back for the tiny landing module that had doubled as their on-surface accommodation for the past few months working on the little moon. At its peak, the site had been an entire complex, but now was only the last few cargo containers and the single living module that had been left for the survey teams as they vacated. Currently, the surface population consisted entirely of Bishop and Beau; the closest people were a ten person mining team working remotely from orbit clear on the other side of the moon. The remainder of their survey crew was already offworld at the nearby station preparing their summary project reports. The two were, at that moment in time, the last people on the face of the planet. The remoteness might have bothered some, but bothered neither of the pair. 

Beau took the short walk at an easy pace, savouring the scenery, desolate as it was. It wasn't the most breathtaking of planets but it was just as thrilling as every other new world he'd worked on. It was striking in the severity of its landscape, fields of once molten rock breaking the skyline in jagged peaks, the walls of huge impact craters cloaked in darkness. It was rich in ores and the ever-critical frozen water deposits that had made it a target as a resource hub. He turned his eyes skyward, to the dense atmosphere tinting first a delicate pink and then indigo blue as the moon rotated slowly into its long twilight, a sunset that lasted for days, totally unique. He wished he could feel the soft touch of the cooling sunset, even though he knew it would soon be below freezing, and his insulated, heated suit kept him comfortably warm. He wished he could smell the evening air, but all he could smell was the harsh refiltered supply of his suit, stripped of any character but the faint chemical edge of the oxygen scrubber.

Unlike Beau, Bishop had no need for a helmet, and though he still wore the standard issue coverall suit with the same yellow technician flashes on it, he had no need of its insulation. His black skin glistened a faint gold in the dim light that turned to a matte pearlescent lustre on the thicker areas where it was plated with stiffer, paler keratin. He too relished the last few hours on the moon, knowing he'd probably not see it again now their site development survey had been completed and the project was moving to construction, most of which was conducted remotely by orbiting workers. The chill of the slowly oncoming night bit at his skin, but he was in no danger of exposure. 

  
  


“I really do love it out here. I’m going to miss it...What about you?” Beau asked his friend at length.  
Bishop grinned, wide enough his split lower jaw spread slightly. “Couldn’t think of a better place to be. Feels like the old Wild West stories, out here on the frontier.”

"You're such a cowboy," Beau chuckled. "What's it like? Really?"

Bishop sucked in a huge lungful and released it in a plume of haze, heat of his body so great that his breath condensed as soon as it hit the cool air. "It's nice not having to wear all that extra gear, I can get a real feel a place, how it smells, how the sun is on my skin, I can touch the dirt - and that’s the part that _really_ matters, can’t be a half-decent geotech without getting your hands dirty." He flashed his friend an even wider, ragged grin.

Bishop was once human, as human as Beau, but he had been modified. He was a chimera, infected with a microscopic, lab-engineered pseudoparasite that took its name from the sheen it gave the infected body: the Midas strain. The alien endosymbiont, Beau had read, changed the structure of keratin in the dermis, making it harder, thicker, and much more reflective to harmful ionic radiation. The iridescence was a purely accidental side effect caused by the altered structure of the skin, and the least of the changes being grafted with the strain gave chimeras like Bishop. All chimeras were voluntary, all pushing the envelope of human adaptation to space habituation, enabling incredible advances in deep space travel and exoplanet exploration. The decision came at a steep price.

"But I do miss stuff when we’re not working." Bishop admitted. 

"Stuff?" 

"I miss being with the rest of the team… The rest of the chimera crew are fine, don't get me wrong, but being separated from my team really puts a stymie on socialising."

"That’s because it can spread, right? It’s infectious." Beau asked carefully. 

Bishop, blunt as always, didn't seem to mind his friend's interest. "The Midas strain? Yeah. I mean, that's why I'm not allowed back to the ol’ _terra firma_. Gotta stay out here, on the frontier." 

Beau thought for another few steps, "There are full chimera crews who go anywhere they want now, they're even putting up some integrated stations...Have you ever thought about transferring over? " 

"Yeah, I know. I considered it, once, I just… I didn't want to leave." 

"Leave who?"

"The crew," Bishop lied. 

The pair reached the base camp and stowed the equipment in the container, locking it down for transport. Beau longed to shirk the helmet and rebreather unit, but knew he'd have to wait until he was in the pressurised portion of the little habitat. They made their way through the decontamination in the airlock, each subjected to a microwave blast meant to scour their coveralls, dry washing their boots with oil suspension disinfectant and leaving them to air. Bishop had to tolerate a slightly more rigorous procedure given he came into direct contact with the environment, but he didn't seem to mind undoing the top of his suit and pulling off his shirt for it. Beau tried to feign fiddling with the fit of his gear to keep his eyes from lingering too much on Bishop's figure through the partition - it didn't help that Bishop, for his part, was by no means body shy. On the parts of him hadn't become plated with tough, matte areas like dull chrome, the flesh had turned strange, dark and translucent enough that as Beau watched he could see how the muscles moved on Bishop's shoulders as he put his arms up, how the stout spines growing from the vertebrae his back didn't hinder the movement at all. 

Both finished their respective decontamination and waited for the auto-lock to finish countdown. It had been set to allow a six person crew to decontaminate without rush, and neither could be bothered to shorten it for the two of them, it was only for a few days, so they had left it. The pair sat a moment in silence. Bishop didn't bother putting his shirt back on, the top of his suit undone and tied around his waist. Beau watched the timer for a moment, if only to keep his eyes off Bishop. The atmosphere in the decontamination airlock was breathable, it pressurised as soon as decontamination started, but only as an emergency countermeasure and protocol demanded he had to keep his own air supply going until the lock down finished.

Eventually, Beau broke the quiet with a soft admission, “Headquarters has been trying to get me to transfer out of the sector. I've turned down four postings. Now, they’ve offered me one for Group Leader.” 

“Beau, that’s fantastic!” Bishop exclaimed, beaming, “About bloody time they took notice!”

Beau didn’t look as excited as his friend - in fact, he looked nervous. “I’m not going to take it.”

“What?! What for?” Bishop was shocked - as long as he'd known Beau, he'd been heading for Division Leader. A Group Officer posting would have almost ensured him that chance at the end of it’s four year term.

“The same reason you haven't transferred to a full chimera crew!" Beau paused, ducking his gaze shyly. "...I couldn't leave you either.” 

The chimera's eyes went wide, caught out in the truth. 

“We're both idiots.” Bishop sighed at length, smiling sadly. "What are we going to do now? I haven't got my next posting yet, I'll probably have to babysit another outlier crew for a while, but you’ve got that, and surely the rest will get theirs."

“Now this sector is mostly set up, they're… they're transferring all of us. Every non-chimera. Back to near-Earth bases, a home rotation for a rest rotation before retasking.” Beau looked bitter. From their position beyond the Kuiper fringe, a return to even the outermost of the near-Earth bases from like those in Trojan orbits would be months in transit, and the rest rotation at least another year. “I can't go. I won't.”

"You want to stay out here with the freaks and the mining drones? You'll be on your own unless you want to bunk with the ore teams." Bishop teased.

"Why not?" Beau rebutted stubbornly. 

Bishop's lips twisted in a grimace. “Beau, you can't make me the reason you're held back. You're brilliant, any team would be lucky to have you. Why do you think I stuck with you all these years, even after I got grafted?”

“What if.. What if I want to stay? _With_ you.” 

“Me? I'm just a line animal, a bulldozer, good for digging ditches and building bridges. There's plenty of good diggers out there.” 

Beau was unconvinced - his friend undersold himself, he was as fine a geotechnical engineer as he'd ever met, and meant more to him than just his expertise. “But they're not _you_.”

The two looked at each other, each cursing the other's stubbornness. 

“Bishop, I've made up my mind. I’ve volunteered to get grafted.” Beau’s last admission came out in a nervous rush. 

Bishop _growled_ \- a deep rumble that threaded into his words, “What- grafted? No you're fucking not! Do you have any idea what you’re getting into?” 

“Yes, I do - besides, what say in it do you have?" Beau rebutted.

“You'd be excluded, you'd never see everyone else again save for bloody handover in the amber zones, you'd never be able to make Division, you’d lose the _team_ \- they'd send you to the ass end of exploration - You'd be stuck out here!” Bishop barely restrained himself from gesticulating but made a fine show of his teeth.

“Yes, stuck with you!” 

Bishop fell silent, mute with shock at the conviction in his voice. 

Beau pressed on, nerves turning to resolution, “I _am_ going to get grafted, so if you’re not happy about it, you better graft me your damn self!" 

Bishop stared at his friend, and Beau stared right back, face fixed. 

"You can do that, right?"

"…With a blood transfusion, yeah." The chimera admitted begrudgingly. 

"Oh golly I left my dialysis kit in orbit!" Beau snarked, making Bishop's brows drop, "Aren’t there any other ways? They don't keep chimeras so separated from the rest of us because they're worried about paper cuts." 

"Any body fluid works." Bishop grumbled. 

"So spit in my coffee." 

"Wouldn't be enough. Too low a parasite load, they'd just hit you with a shot of PCTS, you'd spend a month quarantined, and be right as rain."

"Well, what else would they be worried about?"

"There's… _other_ ways." Bishop flushed slowly - a darkening of his strange skin. 

"So it's true. Chimeras - you have…" Beau couldn't quite put the words he'd read in his research to voice, resorting to lifting a brow questioningly at the chimera beside him. At Beau's cocked brow, Bishop's blush deepened and he made a vague motion with his hand. "You know…" He paused, licking his lips nervously. Beau couldn't recall ever seeing his friend as _embarrassed_ about any part of himself as he was trying to explain this. 

“Eggs?” Beau finally managed. 

“Yes, _eggs_. They're not the kind you can scramble, superchief!" Bishop said with a shaky laugh, "They’re slugs, infertile. At least for my strainline, anyway.” 

Beau's own blush at the admission was more apparent, a pink spreading under his smattering of freckles. “But they can be used to…?”

“Graft, yes. Probably the most efficient way to make a chimera outside transfusion, which is why it’s kinda illegal-" Bishop caught himself, "But that's beside the point because you're not doing it!”

"Yes, I am!”

"How sure are you?" Bishop stared hard at Beau, suddenly serious. 

"Dead certain. I've already filled out the forms, medical has passed approval, the lab has accepted my candidature, I'm just waiting for a date to transfer. The powers that be keep trying to get me to back out by offering alternative postings. The Group Leader position was their final offering.” He explained. Beside him, Bishop looked a little more convinced but no less angry - there was little left to stop Beau getting grafted one way or the other.

“You know me, Bishop, I've done my homework. I'm not backing out. It’s going to happen, whenever they finally accept the transfer, so if it's going to happen, I want you to do it." Beau's voice softened with nervous fondness as he talked - he reached over and took one of Bishop's heavy, blunt-clawed hands in his own gloved ones. The chimera jolted, but made no move to stop him. 

After a moment spent staring at their hands entwined, all Bishop's anger left him with a heavy sigh. He stroked the gloved knuckles in his grip with his thumb. "You'd really do this? You'd really stay?" He asked, voice small.

"Bishop," Beau's other hand went to his cheek, turning his head so he could lock his eyes with the chimera's golden ones, and made sure he could see the conviction in his words, "I'm not going anywhere. I want to stay with you."

The last thread of resistance wavered in Bishop, a tightness in his chest giving way to a different, fierce feeling starting to burn in him.

"Are you sure, Beau?"

"There's nobody else I'd trust." 

“Then let’s do this.”


	2. Stardust

“ _ Here? _ In a decontamination locker?” Beau said with a touch of incredulity. 

“We can at least get started.” He said, a grin twisting his lips over his sharp teeth. He shifted closer to his friend, dropping his hand to rest, heavy, on Beau’s thigh. 

Beau laughed, his blush returning, slinging an arm around the chimera’s thick neck. Once Bishop set his mind to something, very little could dissuade him, this Beau knew from experience. "What do I have to do?"

Bishop glanced up to the door lock - it was mere seconds from being over. "Take your mask off. It'll only get in the way." 

"The way of what?" Beau muttered, thumbing open the clasps and loosening the helmet with a hiss of air

"Of this." Bishop lifted the mask off his face and kissed him -  _ deeply.  _ After a moment he pulled back and gave his partner a crooked grin, running his tongue over his sharp teeth lasciviously. "That should get things started."

Beau was mute with delighted shock, a faint tingle beginning in his lips, rising to a heat that slipped slowly down his throat and seemed to run straight through his spine to his crotch. He’d have been lying if he said it was all the work of the pseudoparasite spreading through him.

The timer on the door shrilled. Bishop pushed it open and led Beau inside. Beau followed, shucking his rebreather in a pile on the way to the cot. He was unable to loosen his field suit with his hand still caught in Bishop’s grip. The chimera finally released his hold of Beau’s hand to push him gently down into one of the cots, standing before him and starting to strip. The lights inside the habitat module were dim and warm, a way of enforcing a ‘recommended’ diurnal cycle in the seemingly timeless depths of space or on exoplanets with irregular rotations like the dwarf moon they were on now. They also served to bring out the subtle luster of Bishop’s mutated skin as more of it was revealed. His huge shoulders rolled as he untied his coveralls and dropped his clothing to the floor in the captive gaze of his friend. Strange bands of muscle, dark flesh accentuated with brighter keratin, rippled with every movement, lustrous in the lowlight. He was at once strange and familiar, human and alien.

_ It looks, _ Beau thought with a head starting to fill with the warm buzz of arousal,  _ Like he’s made of stardust.  _

Bishop noticed the look on his face and his grin widened deviously, "What's that smirk for? Ain't nothing you haven't seen before." Bishop had never been shy of his body, strange as it was - he might even be said to flaunt it, at least among friends.

"I still think you’re gorgeous." Beau said, reaching out to take Bishop’s hand again. 

Bishop seemed to shudder at the touch, as if it was all the invitation he’d ever needed. 

In a single surge, Bishop mantled Beau, driving a knee into the cot beside his hip, planting the opposite arm over his head, and kissed hungrily down his neck, spreading the sensation as he slowly stripping back the rest of Beau’s suit. Beau's heart was racing as the heat in him spread, drawn in hot lines at the touch of those blunted claws on his skin. The chimera was careful, tenderly hooking the waist of the coveralls and drawing them down, tantalisingly slow. Beau rolled his hips to hasten the motion, eliciting a rumbling chuckle from the huge chimera spread over him.

Beau looped an arm around Bishop’s thick neck and pulled his face up to his own, returning his earlier kiss with a fervor that made Bishop grin against his eager lips.

"Still feeling alright?" Bishop reluctantly broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Beau’s.

"Yeah - just really  _ hot. _ " Beau said, taking in the feeling like a building fever, a hot ache starting in his muscles. After a moment, he looked back to Bishop and for the first time the chimera saw a hint of apprehension in his partner's grey eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” The chimera rumbled - a cold twist of fear woke inside him at the sight, making him sit back. 

“It won’t…” 

Bishop remained still, letting Beau take in the sensation spreading through his body. 

"Will it hurt?" Beau asked. 

Bishop's face became serious, "No, Beau. I swear."

"Did it hurt, when they grafted you?" The old pain in Bishop's face answered the question before he'd even finished asking it. 

Beau reached up to stroke the strong lines of Bishop’s face, thumbing at the plated arch of his cheek, "I'm sorry." 

"It’s not your fault. You couldn't have known. The early grafts were rough." Bishop dipped his head into the caress.

"Still doesn't make it right." Beau let his hands slip down to explore Bishops sides, grip strumming the corded muscle as it passed under searching fingers. "How are  _ you _ going? It seems like you’re going to be doing all the work..." 

Bishop’s face softened, huge chest expanding like a drum and losing a breath that shuddered with pleasure of being touched, "Mmm, fantastic..."

They spent a moment of simple pleasure, Bishop repaying Beau's searching hands with firm, careful strokes along the man below him, mindful of his claws on the soft skin. 

Beau could feel a deep tension in the chimera slowly easing as he traced the shapes of his body, following the mosaic of glistening muscle.

"How long has it been?" He asked. He'd never seen Bishop being anything more familiar than his usual rowdy self with any of the other chimeras, nor did he recall him spending much time with them outside of the unavoidable when they were all forced to cohabit. 

"Too long. A while since…" The faint sting in Bishop's throat stopped the words. 

"... Since anyone has touched you like this?" 

Bishop nodded, golden gaze soured by melancholy.

"You know I'm not shy. Nothing stayed because… because I wanted you."

"I'm all yours. So show me what you've got, then." Beau drew him close with a firm hand over the plated neck and kissed him again.

Bishop  _ whined _ through his teeth as his hands traced Beau's body as if he could simply mould him into shape. “You're going to look so good…”

The chimera rumbled, kissing along his jaw, then along the hot, bare neck, delighting in the taste of him and the flush that followed as the pseudoparasite sunk into his skin. The heat had set deep into Beau, burning to the point of a pleasant sting as Bishop worked towards his collarbone with teasing nips and kisses interspersed with salacious licks of his broad, slightly split tongue. Beau murmured, feverish and lusty, as Bishop’s free hand slipped down to cup his groin, already stiffening against the touch. He drew his gaze up to his partner's and found it glazed with arousal - then he shuddered as Beau’s hand found the swell of his own shaft. Both looked down, Beau watching in lewd fascination as the tip of Bishop’s length pushed free of the snug sheath of dark flesh that cradled it. His hand teased and slipped downwards, searching.

“Where?” Beau muttered, pressing into the slight mound of the chimera’s crotch but not finding the familiar weighty shapes he was searching for. 

“Inside - thought you did your homework!” Bishop taunted, but the tremor of his grip around Beau’s own dick belied his lust.

Beau’s eyes narrowed in mock annoyance and he cupped the swelling shape, dragging his hand back up it to the shaft emerging from the sheath. 

Bishop froze a moment, muscles chording as he fought the way his hips rocked and his back arched to drive him further into the sensation. “Fucking tease!” He growled, dropping his head back to Beau’s slick neck with another teasing brush of teeth. The thick length jutting proudly from his sheath ruined any menace he might have hoped for in the action.

Now it had fully emerged, Beau couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was just as eerily familiar and discordantly inhuman as the rest of the chimera’s physique, and it  _ flexed _ against Beau's hand in a way that made his own cock twitch just looking at it. Thick ridges framed the spade-like head, giving way to a sinuously curved shaft that sunk right back into the lines of Bishop’s pelvis. As he watched, the tip of the thick, alien appendage swelled and almost seemed to wink, already leaking viscous drops that rolled down its pulsing shape. He delighted in how Bishop's grip on him tightened every time his fingers brushed one of the ridges, and how the ridges themselves flared softly in response. But his real curiosity was fixated on the true nature of the member.

"Can I…?" Beau rested a finger against the pulsing tip, right on the nub below the opening. 

"You know what that is, yeah?" Bishop grunted into the curve of his neck. 

"Yeah... Still, can't quite believe it till I see it…”

"You better believe it. Here," Bishop shifted, his clawed hand closing over Beau's and guiding his finger to press  _ in _ to him. The chimera groaned as the hungry shaft spread around Beau's finger, gripping and flexing to draw it deeper. He could feel the nub was really a rod of some stiffer flesh running the length of the underside, and watched as the ridges rippled, making Bishop’s shaft suck at him. 

“No way.. _. _ ” He gasped, mind instantly awash with lewd implications of the revelation. 

Bishop’s rumble of pleasure broke into a huffed laugh.

Beau tried to pull his finger from the hungry grip around it and the laugh spiked to a carnal groan that shook the huge figure mantling him, the grip tightening like a vice, making Beau stop for fear of having gone too far. 

“Bishop?”

The chimera took a moment to compose himself, “I’m alright, that just... Gets me every time.”

Beau stayed still until Bishop’s ovipositor - for a chimera’s length was exquisitely alien in that regard- had relaxed around him and the clawed grip on his own dick had loosened. He was as much a mess as Bishop was. 

“Before we get too carried away,” Bishop asked, stroking Beau idly, “How do you want to do this?”

“Can I-you know,” Beau bit his lip, eyes darting between Bishop’s face and back to where his finger rested snug inside Bishop's shaft, his own length hot in the chimera’s hand. 

Bishop grinned wickedly, not needing any further explanation. “Mmm, yes. I'd be happy to…”

The chimera released his grip on Beau’s shaft to reposition himself, widening his stance against the bed and rolling his hips. The movement brought their shafts together and Beau’s own pelvis bridged upwards into the motion. They rocked against each other for a few heartbeats, relishing the heat and the contact. 

The big chimera watched as Beau’s skin started to silver and darken with the changes of the slick teratogenic saliva coating it. Though his skin was blushing dusky tones and almost starting to shimmer, Beau’s dick remained stubbornly human. Bishop knew it was just a matter of time and exposure - and he was about to give him plenty more of the second.

Bishop drew back at last. Beau looked up from where his head had lolled in the haze of pleasure to watch his partner’s shaft flex against its own curve and aim the blunted head at his dick. He was, as his grafting application medical had bluntly stated, ‘within normal anatomical parameters’ but still looked too much to be  _ pleasant _ for the chimera. “Are you sure I’m gonna fit?”

Bishop laughed, heartened by his concern, “Oh, you'll fit. I’ll consider it a warm up.”

“For eggs? How big are they?!” Beau gasped breathlessly.

“You'll just have to wait and find out- _ ah! _ ”

  
  


The arches of the chimera’s inhuman ovipositor flared harder than before, splaying the blunt head wide open and, with a rumble deep in his chest, he surged to engulf Beau’s dick. Beau went mute with the sensation of being so effortlessly taken, of the pulsating grip around the tender flesh. His nerves burned as if with a climax but no release came - the strain was working its mutating magic on him already, locking him at the knife-edge of pleasure as his body changed. 

Bishop was just as wordless as he pushed forward until the blunt head brushed the fuzz of Beau’s crotch. He rested there, taking in the sensation and the view, giddy with the realisation that he was  _ finally _ being filled by the one he’d yearned for. The chimera rested for a moment, muscles fluttering under Beau’s grip, breath coming in heaves. Slowly, with as much care for Beau’s oversensitive, changing body as his own pent up arousal, Bishop pulled himself off - not entirely, just until his muscular opening was flexing around the head of Beau’s penis. He jolted under him, making a small, wordless noise of pleasure, hands raking at Bishop’s broad back hard enough to sting. Unseen by either, his fingers were tipped in the dull chrome of a chimera, nails lengthening into strong claws that threatened to scratch the plates running Bishop’s spine.

“Ow! Gently, Beau!” Bishop laughed 

“Sorry.” Beau huffed, loosening his grip. 

“You’re all right, just forgot how  _ sharp _ new claws are. Guess it's fair for what I'm doing to you.” Bishop tensed his ovipositor around Beau and felt the claws nick him again - sharp as they were, they weren’t yet hardened enough to hurt him, and only served to whip his lust on. 

"Better hold on," He growled, and sunk down again. Beau's back arched, sliding him deeper in the hot, muscular length, unlike anything he'd ever felt. 

Slowly, surely, the pair started to find a pace. The tiny module was filled with the steadily more strained breathing of the pair, the sturdy cot not making so much as a squeak despite the weight of the chimera bearing down upon his partner. Beau's thundering heart hastened the changes, Bishop watching through eyes half-lidded with lust as his skin became glossy with more than sweat, and the teeth glimpsed between his gasping lips grew ragged. The thrill of the spectacle only made him hungrier, showing wickedly lewd talent as he tried to coax Beau's aching body to the climax the pseudoparasite stubbornly denied him.

Beau was near lost in the heat and numbness of his changing body, limbs growing heavy as they were reshaped. His straining muscles became clearer as they were enhanced, and as the effort of the change drew every last bit of energy from his body's reserves. Within the hungry grip of Bishop's ovipositor, he began to swell and lengthen. Each thrust was met with a milking squeeze that drew up all that Beau could give, their thighs a mess of viscous fluids. 

Bishop guided one of Beau’s hands to their merged shafts so he could feel himself  _ through _ the muscular walls. They both shuddered with delight as the cartilaginous arches formed, spreading Bishop wider from the inside.

Beau felt the deep tension in him about to burst, managing to gasp out, "Bishop, I'm almost -  _ ah! -  _ almost there!" 

He half expected the chimera to pull off and let him make a mess all over himself, but Bishop only grew more urgent, a clawed hand lifting one of his tingling legs to push him even deeper. 

The chimera dropped his head alongside his partner’s, face distorted with effort. Beau saw ragged teeth beside him through a haze of overstimulation, sharp shapes through translucent cheeks and flashing beyond dark lips as the chimera rumbled, "Give it to me."

The hungry tenor of his voice struck the last restraint and the tension in Beau snapped. His hips surged upwards and he felt a pull from the depths of his pelvis right to the tip of his altered cock as Bishop sunk fully down onto him. The changed shaft within him flared the newly formed ridges, and his body responded in kind by seizing about it and suckling it in ripples of alien muscle. 

Beau felt himself empty, then a strange new pressure as the pseudoparasite drew his balls within his body and turned them to serve its own purposes. He went limp under Bishop, the heat of his body dying back enough that he could feel the chill air against his skin. 

Bishop held himself still, catching his breath, slowly easing the grip of his ovipositor. He drew back with a tenderness, unable to stifle a moan as the still flaring head of Beau’s new ovipositor caught against his own then tugged free with a sudden give. Beau's limbs twitched, nerves rewired and firing in spasms, but he could feel something else, a new kind of hunger, building below the rush of climax. Bishop sat back as if to appraise him, giddy with the degree of change. 

“How do I look?” Beau caught his lustful gaze. 

“You look fucking gorgeous.” Bishop purred, taking his weight on his knee so he could lift his hand from where he’d clawed it into the tough mattress, and stroke the changed arch of Beau’s cheek, starting to show the plates of reinforced keratin. 

“Yeah?” Beau turned his head to brush the broad palm with a kiss, glancing from under heavy lids and the mess of his curled fringe. His eyes, Bishop saw, were starting to shine the same gold as his own in the soft light of the module. 

“See for yourself.” Bishop reached around and pried one of Beau’s hands from around his hip, drawing it to his lips to brush the knuckles in a kiss. Beau marvelled at the sight of his changed hand. He saw the glossy flesh flexing, the way the light caught the points of his knuckles or the strong curves of the claws -  _ his _ claws, he delighted. Bishop watched his partner, grin turning mischievous. The bigger chimera rolled his hips and pushed his ovipositor past Beau's own, both strange shafts still achingly stiff and sensitive. 

Beau’s face went taut with pleasure and his breath caught in his throat. "Fuck - I'm still so  _ hard _ ."

"You look perfect, Beau." Bishop grinned, "But we're not done yet."

"Really?" 

"Good as you look, nothing a few rounds of PCTS wouldn't undo. The strain has to go to fixation." For all the changes, Bishop knew it could be undone. Beau was no chimera yet. 

"For once," Beau moaned, clawing at Bishop's thick thighs where they straddled him, "Cut out the technicalities."

Bishop laughed breathily,"If we want to make this stay, I've gotta fill you right up."

Beau shivered with anticipation at the thought, somehow stranger yet than all he'd been through that evening, "Eggs - How?" 

"I'll give you a clue."

The tip of Bishop's ovipositor brushed Beau's and he gasped at the sensation, heart racing again.

Bishop grinned into his neck, feeling the thundering pulse making his partner throb against him. “Let me show you how to use this.”

Tightening some strange muscle, Bishop's ovipositor distorted again, arches folded back, flexing the tip in such a way it seemed to evert a point. One of his heavy hands came down to grip both of them, pressing their slick shafts against each other so Beau could feel the way Bishop’s rippled and splayed. Hazy and with nerves numb from the ongoing change, Beau could barely compose himself enough to push into his grip with a needy simper. Bishop’s thumb brushed the spaded tip of his newly changed length, followed by each of his fingers in turn and suddenly one teasing brush was firm enough to sink  _ in _ . Beau would have sworn a blue streak if he had the wherewithal to form words, his muffled gasp of shock making Bishop grin. He pushed his finger another knuckle deeper, trusting the mutations, and pleased at how easily and hungrily Beau took him.

“Good, isn’t it?” He rumbled and slowly pulled his finger out - and Beau’s entire figure arched beneath him with a wordless cry. The only thing stopping his ovipositor locking Bishop’s finger in place was the newly formed muscles and lack of control. Beau suddenly understood why Bishop had reacted so strongly before - he couldn’t fathom how he hadn’t hit another orgasm. 

“Good, good… I think you’re ready.” Bishop had to refrain from laughing at the sight, too preoccupied with what came next. Still, he paused for a moment, lascivious grin softening as he looked over his partner, gold eyes pouring over his figure like honey. 

Beau managed to gasp a question, dimly frustrated that he’d stopped, “What is it?”

“Never dreamed I'd be doing this. You just look so good.” Bishop said. 

“I feel amazing… I don't want to go back. I want you.  _ All _ of you.” Beau muttered happily, pressing a hand along the line of Bishops hip as if he was searching for the hidden shapes to draw out from inside him.

Bishop’s breath grew heavy again - he was too impatient to tease him more. " _ Fuck, _ Beau, I can’t wait to fuck you properly." 

Beau laughed at Bishop’s insistent, blunt talk - never one to mince words, especially when frustrated. There was a rough, hot desire in them that made him helpless to his demands.

"Do it."

Bishop's hand grabbed and stilled him long enough for him to aim. Their tips rested for a moment, before Bishop arched forward and Beau felt himself spreading impossibly easily around him. He was careful, but insistent, working deeper with every pulse, helping shape Beau's changing body into what it should be, showing him how to flex the new muscles of the ovipositor by stretching him open. Beau’s initial meager discomfort of new muscles stretching was lost in the sensation of being spread and filled like never before - and Bishop was just getting started. The tension in them both built as he reached the base, pressing against the hard arch of his pubis, pausing. Beau’s ovipositor had taken a full two thirds of Bishop’s own, and Beau’s mind boggled at the spectacle.

"Still good?" Bishop asked between heavy breaths. 

Beau nodded, wordless with pleasure, but Bishop needed more to be certain. He kissed under the corner of his jaw, teeth brushing the hammering pulse. "Let me know… If I can keep going. If you're sure - Once these go in, there's no going back."

After a moment, Beau found his voice. "Yes. Please, Bishop. I'm sure - it feels so good!"

"I’m going to fuck you so full." He rumbled, thinking of how spectacular his partner would be once he was done with him. His ovipositor twitched in anticipation and the both of them seized with pleasure.

Bishop pushed gently on - within Beau, the chimera’s shaft revealed a final secret, everting the ridge on the underside into a tapered stamen that slid effortlessly forwards - then suddenly he was fully seated, the tip resting deeper in Beau than anything had ever been. He started thrusting minutely, luxuriating in the sensation of Beau's new ovipositor tensing around his own, imagining him heavy with his - “Beau,  _ eggs! _ ”

The two words of warning were all Bishop managed before the muscles in him clenched and a bulge appeared - about the size of a large hen’s egg, but with a slight give in it’s shape with each contraction that told of it’s gelatinous nature, if either had cared a wit for such details at that moment. The chimera had lost his voice to beastial grunts, thrusting carefully, the motion pistoning the bulges further along. His partner gasped as he felt his already gaping width widened further, the stretching sensation rippling down and down until it burst inside of him. Pinpricks of light flashed across his vision, changing nerves firing off with blinding pleasure - and that was just the first. He was surprised and delighted to find his shaft sucking hungrily at Bishop’s without him even knowing particularly how - only that he wanted and  _ needed _ more - some part of the process becoming new instinct. The chimera above him was only too happy to comply, riding his own wave of bliss as he pushed another egg deep into Beau, and another.

With each egg and each peak of pleasure, Beau’s changes hastened. His skin was fully black under the chimera’s careful claws and ardent attention, glossy and translucent like the blush of dusk. Bishop saw the already melanin-heavy freckles smattered across his partner flashing stronger points of iridescence, flecks of colour in the dark bands. He watched as the split in his jaw and lip started to form, exacerbated by Beau’s shameless panting.

"Let me help you with that." Bishop put a blunt claw under his jaw and tilted it up so he could lick and nibble at it as it changed. Beau's mouth sagged open, tongue slipping further out with each panting breath.

Bishop's own mandibles spread as he pressed his head against Beau's, shivering in anticipation. He didn't have to wait long before Beau kissed him, easing the sensation of his morphing face with lust. 

“ _ Fuck. _ ” The chimera gasped. “Almost there, Beau…

Beau's world narrowed down to the aching need within him, the space that Bishop had filled so completely. One final push - Bishop roared as his ovipositor flared, locking him deep within the heat of the smaller chimera. Beau seized around his partner, hips jerking, back arching, pressing him up against the heavier figure, head tilted back and utterly agog in the blissful rhapsody of his climax. The last traces of his humanity were washed away by pleasure. 

The larger chimera rumbled deep in his heaving chest, length still spasming in the depths of the other though he had already given everything he had. 

At last, his huge frame collapsed, rolling to the side, careful of their still connected shafts tied together by the flare of Bishop’s head and the vice-like grip of Beau around him. Their nerves were too overwhelmed to do anything more but burn in pleasure. Beau curled into his embrace and let himself drift

When at last the thundering rush of his peak had passed - a minute, an hour, an age, he couldn't tell - Beau managed to gasp a few words to his partner. 

"Thank you… Bishop, thank you."


	3. BONUS: Bishop Portrait

  
A quick portrait of Bishop as a thank you for everyone who's read this,

left kudos, or penned a kind word here or elsewhere! Forgive me, I don't

quite know how to center embedded images in Ao3's formatting _-GC_

**Author's Note:**

> The Midas Strain: a lab-manufactured version of an extraterrestrial microbe that, in humans, functions as a reproductive parasite and facultative endosymbiont. It was chosen for use in humans because of the advantages it gave its hosts. Nicknamed ‘MIDAS’ because of the keratinisation of the skin, and because of the highly infectious nature. 
> 
> PCTS: Antidote to Midas infection, only effective on low parasite loads as it cannot complete with the rate of parasite reproduction at higher loads. Named for 'Pactolus', the river King Midas rinsed himself of his curse in.
> 
> A full description of the effects and process around the Midas strain, for those that will indulge some worldbuilding, will be included as a final chapter. I may also add illustrations at a later date, as I finish them.


End file.
